The Pureblood Club
by songofskye
Summary: At Hogwarts, there is a secret and ancient club. Formed by all four Hogwarts founders, the Pureblood club has become a legacy and birthright. There is nothing wrong with being pureblood, and many families have often been misunderstood as evil supremacists. Telling HP from a new point of view. Without further ado, welcome to the Pure-blood Club. (Drasteria- centric/ slightly AU).
1. Prologue

Author's notes:

I grew up trilingual, with English being one of my native tongues. However, after not speaking it for a year, I found that my English had gotten a bit rusty. I thought this would be a great place to practice my writing and imagination. Please excuse any typos or grammar mistakes!

The reason why I am writing this fanfiction is because I have always been curious about pure-blood families. Based on the books, you'd think they were at war with each other. Muggle-lovers vs Blood-purists. However, since all these families are related, I think the relationships are much more complicated. Furthermore, families like the Browns, Longbottoms, MacMillans, and Weasleys are all pure-blood families, despite their long association with muggle-borns and half-bloods. They obviously continued to married with other pure-bloods. It made me think that they were unashamedly proud of their heritage and blood line. If that had been the case, the children of these unions would have associated with both sides of the family. I doubt sisters, brothers, and cousins would start ignoring each other, or even hate each other, after marriage. No, it is most likely that all pure-blood children grew up together as playmates. Of course, some families might have exceptions, but I think that is reserved for only a few families. I wanted to tell the story from the eyes of the pureblood families who were living through turbulent times regarding their heritage and culture. I hope you all enjoy my story.

Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, with the exception of the characters I created.

* * *

There is only one rule for the Pureblood Club. You have to be pureblood.

As it currently stands, to be considered a pureblood, one has to have all four of his grandparents to be wizards and witches. There is no exception.

Since the legacy of the club is passed down generation from generation, most members would have known about the club prior to entering Hogwarts. There has only been a few occasions when someone had been allowed to enter, despite coming from an unknown family. Considering how that person was neither cursed or repelled from the club room, it was safe to assume that person could claim pureblood status. Some pureblood families came about from such circumstances. However, it has to be stated that no "new" pureblood families have been named in the past hundred years.

All pure blood wizards and witches are considered to be members, whether they know about it or not. It means that the Weasleys are also members, although no one bothered telling them. Even their own family kept it a secret, passing it amongst the proudest members of the Weasley clan.

Although the club was originally under the supervision of the great Slytherin himself, the other founders were also members. After all, they were proud of their heritage. The club was created so that other pureblood students can enjoy associating with their peers. Not everyone understood the pride it means to be pureblood.

The club room is located in a secret tower, guarded by a rather large and dull painting of an English village. Most students would pass by the painting and never notice it. There is a lone farmer, tending some sheep in the background. Sometimes he will deviate from his task and can be seen sleeping in the pastures or reading the Bible. What people don't know is that the painting is enchanted with spells that prevent its also bars other paintings from ever visiting. Although, none of the other paintings have actually bothered since there was nothing to do. The farmer was mute without any interesting personality.

Plenty of pureblood student knew of this painting, of course. In between classes, on the weekends, and sometimes late at night, the pureblood students would tiptoe to the painting and whisper the club's password. No one actually knows what the password means, or what language it is in. The word were rough and harsh to the ears. This very word has taught to all pureblood children once they reached school age. "Listen to me, my child," a proud parent would say. "When you find the painting, say this. Say it carefully. I learned it from my father, who learned from his father, and so on. This is now your legacy." It is rumoured that the password means "true noble ones" in Parseltongue, but no one can be certain.

If the password was whispered correctly, the farmer will give a low bow. The painting will then slide upwards to reveal a small circular opening. Crawling through, hundreds of lanterns immediately light up with warm light. At the end of the tunnel, a rickety old spiral staircase greets its members. It leads up towards a splendid, magical room- brimming with prestige and class. The room was so large and spacious, many are often taken aback when they realise that the room was larger than the tower itself. The walls were wallpapered grandly with floral accents. The flags of all four houses hang high as if honour of the school itself. Dark leather chairs and silk covered cushions are placed alongside beautiful English oak tables. . Bookcases line the walls, filled with old textbooks, previous copies of homework and exams, and other long forgotten knick-knacks. At the centre of the room is a magical Persian rug that changes its pattern each day. Everything about the room screams tradition, history, and honour. Everything about it stood for the meaning of being pureblood.

The students might not agree with each other, so with the sentiments of the club. Some will continue to associate with muggleborns, while other stubbornly to stay with their own kind. However, whatever the reason, no student will ever complain about the club. It is their family legacy, for pure-blooded families only. They will never complain.

Welcome to the Pure-blood Club.


	2. Chapter 1: The Birth of Asteria

Author's note: Although J.K. Rowling later confirmed the name to Astoria Greengrass, I decided to go with the original spelling. Asteria was a figure in Greek mythology (Goddess of the Stars), which would have made sense because her sister's name was Daphne. Following the Greek mythology trend, I chose Astraea as a middle name. Astraea was known as the virgin goddess of Innocence and Purity, something I think would have suited her personality. I have read that Pansy was suppose to have been the anti-Hermione, and that J.K. had wanted Draco to marry someone better. Astraea, thus, is the anti-Pansy. The third name, Praskovya, was a random Russian name. It was the name for a few Russian tsarinas, so there is a link to aristocracy and nobility. I wanted the Greengrass family to be unique, with a more worldly view on life. Rather than it being about a typical dull English family, brought up on hate and prejudice for muggles. Since there was no mention of any Greengrass death eaters, I am guessing the family was sympathetic to the cause but not active supporters. Using foreign relations and ideologies as an excuse, I could see how the Greengrasses might have avoided any further entanglement with Voldemort. Even I doubt the Dark Lord would have known what to do if he had started reading someone's mind, only for it be in several different languages. Considering how the Greengrass were pure-bloods, he probably would have avoided killing them.

* * *

When Asteria was born, her mother looked at her with anguish. Unlike her sister, she was born looking every bit a Greengrass. Her father, however, roared with joy. He could see that she would have the same delicate features as his wife, but everything else was his. Unlike most pureblood families, the Greengrasses had avoided inbreeding because their ancestors were smart enough to marry pureblood families outside of England. Because of this, the Greengrasses was an exotic blend of heritage from around the world. From Western and Eastern European bloodlines, to distant ancestry from China and Japan, it gave the Greengrass family unique features. Asteria, with her alabaster skin, pale Jade eyes, and thick chestnut hair, prided her family heritage. Vladimir Greengrass could already see that his daughter would have the Greengrass eyes, in which there was an exotic Asiatic tilt; courtesy of their East Asian heritage.

Vladimir would have suspected Daphne's parentage if it wasn't for her pale jade eyes. Born with golden blonde hair and lightly bronzed skin, she looked every inch like her mother. It was clear that his wife will be favouring Daphne over her newborn daughter.

"Really Lisbeth," he chided his wife, "It is not a sin to be born without blonde hair."

"Shut up," she snapped back. "I want all my children to take after me! You're handsome but your features might not be suitable for a girl. My poor baby!"

Vladimir Greengrass felt his left eye began to twitch as he carried his newborn daughter. He was suppose to have married a beautiful Brazilian witch. With a body of mythological proportions and hair the colour of amber, he was completely enamoured. However, his parents disapproved of this Latin beauty, despite her blood purity. Feeling that the family needed some English blood, they had matched him with Lisbeth Fawley. She was also very beautiful but was born under the influence of a love potion. As a result, Lisbeth was a conceited vain creature who spent hours in front of the mirror each day. Luckily the potion had been brewed extremely weakly or else she would have been completely incapable of love. The marriage have had a rocky start, but after the birth of their first child, things were finally beginning to settle.

"Darling," she said, "Let me hold her."

Vladimir smiled, "Yes, my dear."

Maybe he had judged her too quickly as he sees Lisbeth kiss their baby. "No, she loves our second child as much our first," he thought. Oh, Merlin, his wife was beautiful. With golden tresses and full bosoms, she was perfection while cradling their daughter.

He didn't know when it had happened, but he knew he had grown to love his wife.

"I think she loves me too," he thought. Lisbeth was now looking at him, her eyes bright and smiling.

"Darling, I'm so happy. I wish Daphne was here. She would love her sister. Both our daughters are so beautiful."

"You're also very beautiful, my dear. You were magnificent."

Lisbeth blushed as she looked shyly at her husband. Vladimir was absolutely enchanted.

The tender moment was interrupted when a healer walked in carrying some parchment rolls.

"What?!" growled Vladimir. This healer clearly had no sense of timing.

"Sorry," said the healer, looking nervously at the couple. "We need to you fill out some documents, namely the child's birth certificate. What is the child's name?"

"Astraea Asteria Anastasia Greengrass."

"Certainly not," cried Lisbeth. "You will scar our daughter for life."

"We've talked about this, my dear," said Vladimir. "We are not naming our second child Diamond Sparkles."

"How about Cascading Jewels?"

"What was this about _me_ scarring our daughter's life?"

"Fine, then you choose."

"I thought I did."

"Oh drat! Well, I have another idea."

"What do you suggest, my dear," sighed Vladimir. Merlin's left toe, he loved this infuriating woman.

"Let's change the order to Asteria Astraea. It will go nicely with Daphne's names," said Lisbeth slowly. "But she shall not be named Anastasia as well. I know you want to add a Russian name to honour your mother, but surely there are other names other than Anastasia"

"Anastasia was my mother's name," said Vladimir, feeling slightly hurt.

"I know, darling, but her initials will be A. A. A. G.; and it is a mouthful to say."

"All alright, then what about Tatiana."

"No, it's pretty but our daughter doesn't look like a Tatiana."

"Afaga?"

"Certainly not."

"Galenka?"

"No."

"Ludmilla"

"Are you even trying?"

"These are perfectly respectable names!"

"I shall not have you embarrass our daughter."

"There is nothing embarrassing about these names! There have been many beautiful, powerful Slavic witches with these names"

"NO IS NO!

"Svetlana?"

"That's a pretty name, is it common?"

"Unfortunately yes, my dear."

"Then no."

"Praskovya."

Lisbeth paused, "Asteria Astraea Praskovya, I rather like the sound of that."

"Thank Merlin," muttered Vladimir, suddenly feeling incredibly tired and irritated. It has been a long day for both him and his wife.

"Is the named confirmed, sir?" asked the healer.

"Yes, I think so."

"Right," said the healer, as he spelled out the baby's name. "A-S-T-O-R-I-A, A-S-T-R-E-A, P-R-A-S-C-O-V-A; is that correct?"

"No," snapped Vladimir. "Give me the damn parchment and I will write out the name myself."

"Darling!" cried Lisbeth. "I think our daughter will spend her life with her names misspelled. I think you better choose another name. What about Ruby? Oh, I rather like the sound of Sapphire. Twinkling Sapphire Praskovya Greengrass. What do you think, darling?"

The twitch in Vladimir's left eye grew stronger, never has he written a name with more conviction.


	3. Chapter 2: Pansy's Destiny

When Draco Lucius Hyperion Abraxas Malfoy was born, Rafflesia Parkinson felt both a sense of despair and delight. It was a conflicting feeling as she looked at her infant daughter, Pansy. There have been many pureblood babies born that year, but Draco would be the crowning prince. The most sought after by all the girls, the son-in-law that every family wanted. His heritage is beyond pure and his family wealth enormous.

She looked at her sleeping daughter. "It will be up to you, my Pansy," she cooed.

"You look excited, my odious flower," said her husband. "I assume there is good news?"

Rafflesia glanced at her rotund, portly husband. Dremel Parkinson was short, fair, and appallingly overweight. Consisting only of soft lines and thinning hair, his looks only worsened with his rather squashed face. She thought he looked like a cross between a pig and a pug. Twelve years her junior, Rafflesia had to wait for her husband to grow up before marrying him. It was humiliating for her and him, but it was the only way they could have secured spouses.

"Well obviously, my fat darling," she replied coldly. "Narcissa Black, I mean Malfoy, has given birth to a son. They have named him Draco. Mother have just written to me about it"

"Lucius will be pleased," said Dremel, eyeing his wife suspiciously. "He finally has an heir after so many years."

At the mention of Lucius Malfoy's name, Rafflesia flushed a shocking shade of red. She had been completely enamoured with him her entire life; well, she was still in love with him now.

Like his son, Lucius's introduction into the marriage market began at birth. As one of the most eligible son's of England, every pureblood family had their eyes on him. Rafflesia's family was no different. Born as the third child to Jameson Bulstrode and Felicity Bulstrode ne' Longbottom, Rafflesia was adored from birth as the only daughter. She wasn't a pretty child, her hair was a dull brown, her eyes the colour of mud, and skin that had a tinge of yellow. Her parent adored her, nonetheless, and she considered a prize to the the pureblood community. There were more boys than girls, and many families have started to worry that their sons might marry a halfblood or muggleborn. The Greengrasses seemed to have figured a solution by marry foreign, but none of the families agreed to follow in suite. It simply wasn't the English thing to do.

Rafflesia had been considered a suitable match for Lucius. He was six months older and from a impeccable heritage. Not to mention he was a distant cousin, meaning that the bloodline would not be too close.

Her mother immediately took advantage of the situation and Rafflesia became Lucius's playmate. Whenever the Malfoy's took their son out in public, she made certain the her daughter would be at his side. It was a very public statement, but Felicity Longbottom Bulstrode was determined to have Rafflesia as Lucius's wife. "Stay close to him," she would say to her daughter. "Compliment him, make him feel confident. Scare all the other girls away. Don't forget he is your husband!"

If it wasn't for that pesky Narcissa Black, Rafflesia was certain she would have been his wife. She was too young to remember Narcissa's birth, but her mother had often told the story. Lucius was one and half years old when the blonde chit was born. Unlike Rafflesia, Narcissa's birth was not celebrated or cheered by the family. The Blacks had desperately wanted a son, they already have two other daughters. Still, her birth was celebrated by the community as pure-blood girls were few.

Everyone had visited the Black's, bearing gifts and well-wishes. They also visited in hopes of matching one of their sons with the new baby girl. When the Malfoys had approached, Lucius waddled over to Narcissa, took one look at her, and declared, "MINE! BABY MINE!"

"It seems that my son has excellent taste in women," said Abraxas Malfoy.

Everyone in the room laughed, some less genuine than others. Rafflesia's mother saw how both the Blacks and Malfoys were looking at each other. She didn't like it one bit. Carrying her daughter, she muscled her way towards the Black's.

"It seems Lucius will be very popular with the ladies," she smiled. "I'm sure the girl who marries him will be very lucky." Setting Rafflesia down next to Lucius, she turned towards Druella Black and said, "Now let me see that... little angel." There was no doubt in her mind that Narcissa was her daughter's rival.

Following her mother's orders, Rafflesia followed Lucius everywhere. As childhood friends, Lucius, Rafflesia, Crabbe, Goyle, and a few others formed a clich at a very young age. Lucius's favourite game was to bully Narcissa, which included stealing and hiding her dolls, pulling her hair, and chasing her on toy broomsticks. Rafflesia had joined in, basking in Narcissa's cries and outbursts, as she destroyed her toy wands. Narcissa was her rival afterall.

Rafflesia was certain that Lucius loved her. Even at Hogwarts, she was the only girl who got to sit in his company. Clever, academically gifted, and a member of the Slug Club, Lucius had caught the eye of many girls at Hogwart. He still tormented Narcissa, much to Rafflesia's pleasure. At fifteen, Lucius became a great womanizer. Tall, handsome, and muscular, girls from all houses took no qualms in throwing themselves at him. Pure-blood girls from all families publically announced their interest in the powerful blond Slytherin. Rafflesia allowed Lucius to have his fun, but took revenge on all the girls who have slept with him. Everyone thought she was his girlfriend, and Rafflesia made sure it stayed that way. She knew Lucius had only regarded her as a close friend, but she was also sure that he would love her. She has already slept with him many times. He never tossed her away like those other girls. It was only a matter of time.

Everything came to a close during their seventh year. It was the year when everything came crashing down on Rafflesia. It happened near the Great Lake when Rafflesia and her friends have been sitting together, going over exam materials for the N.E.W.T.S.

Rafflesia had heard a distraught cry and laughed when she saw it was Lucius taunting Narcissa. He had taken her school books and was refusing to give them back. There was a pretty Hufflepuff student too, laughing and pointing at Narcissa. She was clearly the new slag Lucius was shagging. Rafflesia was about to stand up and help him, when Narcissa gave Lucius a great push.

"Physical violence? How muggle of you, Narcissa. Don't you possess a wand? I could always show you mine. I have a very big, powerful wand."

"You womanizing pig!" screamed Narcissa. "Don't you ever come near me, you bastard. You womanizing heartless bastard. I don't want you or your stupid wand. Save it for this tramp of yours."

"Why Narcissa, could it be that your jealous? Please tell me that you're jealous."

"I HATE YOU, LUCIUS MALFOY! I HATE YOU!"

Narcissa fled towards the castle, face red and streaked with tears.

Rafflesia watched Lucius howl a great laugh, before chasing after Narcissa. He looked so triumphant and confident as he ran towards the castle. "Probably to torment the bint even more," she thought. She glanced at the Hufflepuff that have been left behind. She was standing there, looking a bit confused. "I wouldn't follow him if I were you," Rafflesia called out. "It looks like he has lost interest in you. Tell me, have you had a good shag with Lucius?"

The girl looked mortified and quickly ran away. Rafflesia and her friends shrieked with laughter.

The next day, it was announced that Lucius and Narcissa were officially a couple. The news spread through the school like wildfire. Rafflesia had dismissed it as gossip until she saw Lucius and Narcissa holding hands.

"Did she give a love potion?" she asked him later, after barging into his dormitory. "Did you give her a love potion?"

"Don't be ridiculous," drolled Lucius. His patience was wearing thin. "I have been asking her to be my girlfriend since her fifth year."

"WHAT?! Well, you a funny way of showing it!" screeched Rafflesia. "What are you saying, that you actually love her? All those years bullying and tormenting her, you are actually telling me that it was a sign of affection?!"

"I was immature, Rafflesia," replied Lucius. "I didn't realise my feeling until my sixth year. Back then, Narcissa had wanted nothing to do with me. My attempts at wooing completely failed. She was suspicious of me."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It wasn't any of your business."

"Does Narcissa... love you?"

"She fell in love with me at the end of last year, but was too proud to admit it. It took some coaxing from me by making her extremely jealous."

Lucius smiled, as if remembering a fond memory. "She is adorable when she's angry."

Rafflesia wanted to wipe that smile off of him. She wanted to curse him and make him scream in pain. She wanted to kill him. Him and Narcissa. Narcissa was adorable when she was angry? Was that the excuse Lucius was going to give her?!

"What… what about us, Lucius?"

"I wasn't aware there was an us," replied Lucius dryly. "I have always considered you a great personal friend. You will always be dear to me, Rafflesia, but I don't love you. Surely, you know that."

No, Rafflesia didn't know. She was so certain that Lucius would fall in love with her. All her hard work, all her lies and manipulating, all her scheming had seemed to slip away.

"But you slept with me."

"You seduced me by arriving to my bed at night. I thought you regarded it was being 'friends with benefits'."

"Were you thinking of her while you were… with me?"

"I was always thinking of her. I think I have always been in love with her."

In a huff, she stormed out of the room. "It's only infatuation," she thought. "He will move on to a new girl within a week."

"Please don't enter my dormitory anymore," called out Lucius. "Narcissa wouldn't like it."

Rafflesia cried to sleep that night.

Lucius became disgustingly faithful after he and Narcissa officially became a couple. It was clear that he was completely besotted with her. Rafflesia attended his wedding, which occurred three months after Narcissa had left school. It took all her self control not to douse all the drinks with deadly potions.

She was almost thirty when she had married Dremel Parkinson. It wasn't a love match. Her father had wished to acquire some land in North Cumbria which owned by the Parkinson family. With all the eligible men either married, dead, or in gaol after the war, Rafflesia didn't have a lot of choices. Even that dratted Arthur Weasley had married Molly Prewett, a pureblood, after he had made it his lifelong mission to date only muggleborns. The Parkinson family had another son who was closer to her age, but he perished during the war while fighting for the wrong side. Dragging each other up the aisle, Rafflesia looked at her eighteen year old husband with self- pity. It would be clear that they would never love each other. If only that stupid Narcissa hadn't been born.

"My atrocious floret, I don't like your expression."

Rafflesia looked at her husband. She had remained friends with Lucius, and her husband suspected her of adultery. "If only it was true", thought Rafflesia bitterly. "But the stupid man is still besotted with that bint. Infuriatingly faithful to that miserable cow."

"I was making plans for our daughter, my dearest ugly fat husband," she replied slowly.

"Oh?"

"How do you feel about the name, Pansy Malfoy?"

Her husband suddenly smiled. "Why, my repulsive blossom, I think that is an excellent idea."

"I thought too, my darling obese whale of a husband. After all, my daughter deserves far more than you can ever possibly give her."

"But my despicable floweret, I think you might have to act fast?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did you forget about Daphne Greengrass? I believe Lisbeth Greengrass gave birth to her a month ago."

"Ah, yes. Thank you for reminding me, my dear disgusting pig of a husband," replied Rafflesia. "But I am not worried. Don't you know? Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. I think Daphne and Pansy will become the closest of friends, don't you think?"

"What about the other families? Both the Browns and MacDougals have given birth to pure-blood girls."

"Why they will become Pany's friends too, my darling porcine wastrel of a husband. Pansy will be friends with all the pureblood girls. She will personally make sure that no one gets in her way."

"Pansy shan't be making the same mistake I've made," she thought bitterly. "I pushed Narcissa away when I should have kept her close. It would have made sabotaging much easier. No, my daughter will succeed where I have failed"

"I think, my hideous flora, I might actually agree with you on this. Isn't life surprising?"

Rafflesia glared at her husband before smiling a rather cruel smile. "Yes, indeed, you disgusting lard of a husband. Isn't life surprising." Turning to her daughther, Rafflesia felt happy for the first time in years.

"My darling Pansy, I think it's time for you to meet your future husband."


End file.
